In the morning we arise and walk. There’s a group of 3 wild dogs running around the campground. One older slow one. One middle aged friendly one. One young, very playful one. The young one and Sherman play a bit. If we were in a place Sherman could run, they’d have a great time.
Back to the van. Eat. Head to Visitor’s Center. I go in for a map and suggestions. I ask the man at the counter where anthropologists think the original people here migrated from? We’re they from the Mesa Verda diaspora? He just said he has no idea, and laughed. OK. Me neither!
There’s one hiking trail into the canyon. But Sherman’s not allowed. So, no hike today. I choose the South Rim because it has more overlooks.My first look into the canyon. The trees in the distance are a mystery.(more…)

We wake with first light, get up and walk to the end of the mesa we’re camped on. Standing there surrounded on 300 degrees by river gorge walls leading down to the San Juan River. It’s an amazing feeling, standing on a little rock point with half mile deep and three-quarter mile wide gorge filling all of peripheral vision. Sherman too is standing still, looking around at the view. We soak in it… We walk along the edge back to the van. The river gorge goes down in steps. The river is about 2000 feet below us. But the dropoff from the cliff we’re walking on is only 20-30 feet to the next layer.On to Monument Valley. I’ve wanted to go here for decades. Today’s the day…!(more…)

We get up and walk the 2 miles into Painted Hand Pueblo.
This is a site with many petrographs. While walking down the road I notice that Sherman is a little on edge. As we’re walking I notice that the bushes growing along the road are mostly blocking his view of anything in the distance, so his other senses are on high alert. I wonder what it looks like from his view, so I hold by phone down at arms length. This is not as close to the ground as his eyes, but about a foot higher at my knee level. So… here’s an approximation of Sherman’s walk on this road.(more…)